


Steady Beat

by kuchi



Series: curious sympathy [3]
Category: South Park
Genre: Anal Play, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 16:19:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13103949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuchi/pseuds/kuchi
Summary: Stan thinks he's getting pretty good at certain... activities. Smut.





	Steady Beat

I drop my overnight bag on Kyle’s bedroom floor. “Hey.”

Kyle is lying on the bed, and he cranes his neck up awkwardly from behind his laptop. “Hey, dude.”

“What are you up to?”

“Watching TV,” he says, without looking up again. I nod and kneel down to undo my shoelaces.

He better not be watching any of our shows without me. I shuck off my shoes. All I’ve done since getting through the front door is take off my outdoor clothing and put away the food I bought, but I slump down onto the bed and curl up behind Kyle anyway. Anything else can wait, I’m pretty exhausted. Staying up so late last night drinking with Kenny before my shift today probably wasn’t the best idea, I should've gone home when everyone else did.

Kyle is warm, and he smells vaguely like his lemon shower gel. I nuzzle my face into his shoulder like that will let me absorb some of its freshness. I feel a faint dampness from the tiny curls pressed against my nose. It tickles. Making myself comfortable, I peek over Kyle’s shoulder at the screen. Thankfully, he’s watching a historical documentary of some sort (or at least that’s what it looks like, from the scratchy black and white clips of old presidential speeches flashing on the screen). I watch his face as his eyes flit across the screen, pupils wide in the low evening light. I run my eyes down the line of its features.

It’s been a couple of months almost, but I still can’t really believe I get to come home to him like this some days. It’s just fucking fun, like we’re still kids having sleepovers.

I put my arm around his waist. Kyle turns fully onto his side to give me better access, so I’m pressed against his back, head to toe. He yanks out his earphones and turns his head to me. “Long day?”

I nod and pull my arms tighter around him, nuzzling my face further into his neck. He really does smell good, and the skin below the buzzed hair at the back of his neck is warm and soft, freshly-showered. I have to kiss him there.

Kyle smiles. “Me too. Do you still wanna go out somewhere later?”

I shake my head, letting a hand run down the length of his arm. “Let’s go tomorrow? I’m kind of tired. Just wanna lie here right now.” Kyle is probably more tired than I am since he usually gets up at an ungodly hour in order to get to work (and even sometimes on weekends, which I really don’t understand), so I don’t think he’ll object.

He nods, pulling the lid closed on the computer.

This is the first time I’ve seen Kyle in days. I could honestly just stay right here all night, talking about random shit and holding him. He looks so relaxed, long limbs sprawled easy on the bed, idly watching TV and smelling like fresh laundry. It makes me feel refreshed again for some reason, content instead of tired. I press a kiss into his shoulder.

I work my way up, leaving little kisses against his neck, making my way to his ear.

Kyle huffs in a sharp breath.

I smile against his ear. “Something the matter?” I whisper, and I’m completely aware of how his body has suddenly tensed. It’s ridiculous how easy it is to get Kyle going. It makes me so fucking giddy. I’ve learned pretty well how to gauge the effect I’m having on him, but it’s still a little unbelievable. I can’t believe I never noticed it before we were together. We’ve always been so close.

I breathe in his scent, nudging my body closer to his. My hand slips around to his stomach, tracing patterns over his thin t-shirt. I stay there for a while, before pushing my hand underneath the fabric, wandering my fingers gently over the thin trail of hair that leads down to his waistband. When he breathes out shakily, my stomach warms.

I let my tongue flick just behind his ear. Kyle makes a quick little noise like a sigh and his whole body lays still. I slip my hand lower, and I was right - his cock is already growing, half-hard under his boxers. My heart picks up. I pull him into me more, trying to get pressure on my own cock. I’m so comfortable in this position that I already know exactly what I want to do - I’m going to get Kyle off, just laying here like this.

Slowly, though. Make him suffer a little.

I skim my hand over his boxers, cupping at his cock, feeling it grow with the movement of my lips on his neck. I take it out, just stroking it lightly, noncommittally. “Do you have lube, or something -?” I try to say it as casually as possible.

Kyle nods quickly, reaches over to the bedside drawer before pressing a small bottle into my palm. I pump it a couple of times into my hand, but not before telling Kyle to remove his pants.

The lube is cold, so I wait for it to warm up before I put my slippery hand back over his cock, and then I’m just slowly slicking him up with long, firm strokes. Kyle sighs and backs up against me. The pressure of his ass against my dick is perfect, but after a few firm presses I have to drag myself away from it. I need to lean over slightly so I can see what I’m doing (and so I can see his face.)

I run my fingers along the length of his cock, alternating between rubbing slowly under the head, light pressure, and tugging my fist right down until it’s against the base of the shaft. He moans and trembles whenever the sensation builds up, but I never linger in one place too long. I’m concentrating, and it’s not hard to slip in tune with his body. Not when I can feel every little twitch of his cock, every squirm and every shuddering breath, all plastered against my own hands and body. His heart is beating hard; almost like I can feel it in my own throat.

He spreads his legs out further, letting me touch him more and more thoroughly. Every time I think he’s getting close to a strong rhythm, I let my hand wander again, until the quick little moans subside and he’s only sighing and breathing hard again. He seems really relaxed after a while, and I think it’s because of the pace. I feel it in the slump of his back muscles, loose against my chest. My hands cup gently at his balls sometimes, and other times I start dragging slow fingers down below them, and up again, rubbing at his taint. It seems to really work. Kyle’s moans are airier, less distinct, and suddenly he makes a cut-off sound like a groan. I see the muscles of his stomach twitch, cock spasming slightly.

 _Holy_ _shit_. I do everything I can to recreate that sensation. It looks so fucking hot - like he has no control over it at all.

Kyle is writhing now, rubbing himself back onto my hand. I kiss wetly against his neck, and my other arm is braced on the pillow almost over his head. I’m listening intently for every reaction, every tiny uncontrollable moan. He doesn’t try to muffle himself with his hand anymore, not like he used to; I bet he’s learned by now just how much it turns me on to hear him.

I want him to lose control completely. I’m pretty sure from his reaction that I’m already getting his prostate, but I want to see if I can do even better. Whenever my hand is stroking below his balls, I pull my fingers slow and firm along the taut skin, pushing, teasing, almost slipping below. I watch him squirm more and more each time I do this until he finally moans, loud and breathless. 

Kyle reaches down and grabs my wrist, then lets it go again like he doesn’t know what to do. But I do. I want to be inside him.

I meet his eyes, and they’re practically glazed over. I know we’re on the same page, because Kyle rubs against my fingers keenly, shuddering. I drink in the sight.

I press my lips against his ear, trying to put my thoughts together in a coherent sentence. “Do you wanna - do you want me to fuck you? Or can I use -”

Kyle’s breath falters, and we end up kind of talking over each other. “I don’t know,” he says. “Kind of - yeah. A little bit.”

I can read the indecision drawing in the line of his shoulders. We haven’t really bothered with anal that much (more out of a lack of patience than anything, because, to be pretty frank, it does feel fucking great.) And whenever we do do it, I’ve sensed that Kyle is a little pickier than me about getting fucked. I haven’t really questioned what it is - I think he’s just more anxious than me about being clean, or being vulnerable, or most likely both.

I kiss up to his ear. I’m not going to push him, especially not without any planning. My head is only focused on one thing anyway - all I want to do is keep this up, fuck him whatever way is going to make him keep moving like this, making these noises. “I’ll - I’m gonna put my fingers inside you, yeah?”

I feel him moan and nod, a bit erratic. I squeeze my arm around him, almost like I'm trying to hug any bit of hesitancy out of him. “Just let me make you feel good.”

Kyle nods feverishly, eyes closed.

“Spread your legs a little more for me.”

I heave myself up and kneel next to him, close as possible. I’m going to need both hands. I pull Kyle’s leg over along my side to get better access, pressing a kiss against his knee before I put it down. He smiles a little questioningly, but it quickly disappears, replaced by soft sighs when my hands are back working on him. I get more lube, and then I’m carefully pressing a finger inside him, slowly, taking my time teasing along the slippery skin around it. Kyle is so turned on that he takes it well, sighing into the feeling, and despite the tightness I feel around my fingers there’s barely any actual resistance.

Soon, with two fingers, Kyle’s movements are jerkier, his moans coming sharp and breathy. He’s holding my hand against himself with his own clammy one, guiding the pressure. I pull my fingers out and in, always slow, always rubbing generously. Kyle’s whole body tenses and writhes constantly, legs spread wide and muscles drawing tight against my fingers. Fuck. I love watching the way they disappear inside of him. His cock glistens, big and gorgeous and leaking precome; with my other hand I smear the wetness down from the tip, into firm stroking motions. His eyes are gently closed, and I realise with a wave of pride that I’ve relaxed him enough that he’s not even screwing them shut.

He looks perfect. My cock aches.

I did this to him.

I lean down to kiss his neck. When my fingers curl inside him, Kyle’s legs shake, spasming again. His cock is so fucking hard in my hand, and _God_ , I really didn’t think it was possible for it to get any harder. Just watching the telltale twitch of it every time I hit the spot is like a shock through my own nerves. I can’t believe the state I’m putting him in. I mumble into his neck, mindlessly, “You look so fucking hot right now.”

Kyle moans keenly, and jerks around like can’t decide whether to shake his head or not. I can tell that he’s fighting between embarrassment and being even more turned on, and his expression is just totally wrecked.

I’ve never seen Kyle like this. I want to ruin his composure completely.

I keep rocking my fingers into him, relishing the way he squirms down onto them, but I move my other hand off his body, until I only have a single finger on him, feather-light on the underside of his cock. I lean into his ear and whisper, “Do you like me fucking you like this?” I’m asking him before I realise I’m doing it, so focused on him that I don’t even feel self-conscious.

I'm fully prepared for him to laugh it off, but he only moans continuously, grabbing hard onto my hand, nails digging in. He tries desperately to writhe up into my other hand to get a more solid sensation on his cock. “ _Just let me come -_ ”

I kiss him hard, cutting him off. “Look at me,” I breathe. ‘Answer the question.”

He stares, then suddenly exhales, nodding vigorously. “I - I do. _Fuck_. ”

Somehow it knocks the breath out of me.

I can tell that it’s taking a lot out of him not to look away from me, to even answer me, and even as his admission sparks a fresh wave of arousal up my spine, I feel a different kind of warmth in my chest. I know how Kyle can be kind of self-conscious about sex, and I can’t believe how much he’s letting me coax him out of it. I grab his face, press my lips to his. The kiss is wet and uncoordinated. My fingers are rubbing deep inside him, a quick, steady motion. I make a slippery fist around his cock, and Kyle fucks into it the moment his body recognises the sensation.

“Come,” I breathe against his neck. "Come for me."

Kyle wraps his arms right around me immediately, fingers squeezing in my hair and hips bucking up. His cock spasms with the glide of my fingers, and then he’s coming hard, all over his stomach. My own cock throbs, in a total frenzy at the sounds he’s making, so loud and long and uninhibited.

His cock is pulsing, thighs shaking hard even after he comes. Jesus. I’ve _never_ seen aftershocks like this, on him or myself.

I run my hand through the mess on his stomach, down to his pelvis, and lightly over his cock. He jerks and shoves me away, shaking his head and writhing. Too much sensation.

“I know,” I say. “Hold still. I just wanna -” I leave my hand on the inside of his thigh, so that he doesn’t try to straighten his legs out. I’m fumbling with my cock, and then Kyle is watching me as I stroke it fast with my hand wet and sticky from his come, pressing the tip against his taint. His skin is burning hot, and I come like that, rubbing the underside of my cock against his hot flesh. I can sense Kyle watching intently and it makes the feeling even better.

I flop next to him the moment I’m done, totally exhausted. Even when I run my palm down his arm, he still shivers off the excess sensation.

A few moments later, I inch my way to him and lean into his shoulder, feeling sated, and kind of sleepy. I can tell Kyle is too from the way his breathing has slowed.

I blink up at him, and he blinks back.

“ _Seriously_?” he says eventually, grimacing down at the mess between his legs. I follow his eyes down - and yeah, I realise it must feel kind of gross now. He does not sound impressed, “You really couldn’t think of a better place to jerk yourself off?”

I burst into laughter.

“I’ll clean you up right now,” I offer. He pulls his face away dramatically when I lean over and try to kiss him, but the act is already half-hearted. Hardly a moment later, he giggles and leans back into me, pulling a warm hand around my face.

His fingertips move gently in my hair. I close my eyes and savour it. I twist my head so I can kiss the edge of his hand. “That was good, right?” I already know the answer, but it's not going to hurt to hear it.

“That was _awesome_ ,” he says, and when I open my eyes for a moment, I see that he can’t keep the shyness out of his smile. I have to kiss him again. He’s blushing a little but I don’t point it out; I can read the gratitude in the tilt of his whole body. He leans his head on top of mine, leading my hand down to his waist and pressing my fingers down flat just below his navel. I can feel a throbbing pulse, fading but still there. Holy shit.

“You’re welcome,” I grin up at him, pressing my nose right up against his.

He swats my face away, laughing. “ _Please_ clean up.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> wtf am I doing with my holiday


End file.
